To Whom It May Concern
by Queen Of Gabb 488
Summary: <html><head></head>Hiatus-You have to understand that my entire life has been spent in captivity; hidden from the world but not it's' cruelty, and so it was for every witch.</html>
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** this is in response to the Prison Charmed Challenge. I normally don't participate but it caught my interest. I'll include the challenge information for you to read. The first chapter is extremely short because it's just the prologue. Please READ & REVIEW.

**Prompt:**

AU-In a world where a witch is identified by their DNA at birth and sent to a prison on an island to be experimented on until three friends who have no idea they're sisters, decide to make a plan

**Requirements:**

They teach themselves magic in secret

Showing magic in front of the guards gets you punished

Paige slipped through the cracks, something to do with her whitelighter blood hiding her witch DNA

The three sisters stumble into a random house after their escape that happens to belong to Paige

The whole experimenting-on-witches is a government secret so the world does not really know about the existence of magic

* * *

><p><em>To Whom It May Concern<em>:

Ours was a world where our existence was maintained in the shadows. The dark of night gave no protection yet light didn't shine down on our faces either, because while most people got to lead their ordinary lives secure in their belief that the existence of magic was for the superstitious and the whack jobs, an elite few knew and took advantage of it while protecting their own interests.

That's why we were there; herded like cattle, though I guess you could say we had been rustled. The aforementioned elite group had not only kept quiet about the existence of witches, but had also kept their own presence secret from other organizations like the FBI, CIA, etc. etc. It wasn't until the new millennium that they presumed to make themselves known, and of course it was behind false names and newly created government agencies so as to avoid real detection and investigations into their business. Home Land Security? That was just another way to hide their sins. Pretty clever, though. Their unit knew how to use the law to steal us away from our homes and our families, though they had been doing it for more than a century.

You have to understand that my entire life has been spent in captivity; hidden from the world but not it's' cruelty, and so it was for every witch. So I might be more than a touch bitter, angry, distraught –all of the above—about the circumstances. I'm also extremely determined to fix that which has been wronged. This journal will be my written account of every experience I have while Iattempt to shine the light not only on my kinds' existence, but also on "theirs". The innocent must be protected; the guilty must be punished.

– _P_


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: italicized passages are from the journal from chapter one/the prologue. Read and Review Please!

_It all started with the discovery of one tiny little minuscule thing. __Deoxyribonucleic acid, or DNA as it's commonly referred to, was discovered in the late eighteen hundreds and holds the answer to each individuals anatomy; what makes that person who they are, both physically and psychologically –let's not talk about nature versus nurture for the moment—is contained in their DNA sequence along a regular double helix structure. Well, that is at least for the "regular" human being. _

_It was this discovery that led to this entire mess. You see, a witch's DNA has something unique about it that sets it apart from all others; the triple helix. I know, I know; it sounds like some kind of move you'd see in a figure skater's Olympic routine but it's not. In truth, it's the most important discovery to have ever been made because of its impact on society. Truly ironic, seeing as "society" has no knowledge of said impact, just as more and more witches are losing their knowledge of magic._

* * *

><p>Phoebe ran through the woods, jumping over fallen logs and barreling through thorn bushes. The sound of dogs barking were getting closer and the pressure to escape grew more intense as she felt the possibility of it slipping through her fingers. She knew that there had to be a way to get out and leave this life behind, so she ran.<p>

Phoebe ran until the woods thinned out and before she knew it there was a ditch coming up on her. At sixteen years old the girl was a force to be reckoned with as she had proven to the other inmates and the guards of what they liked to call Paradise Prison. Throwing her arms out to the side as if to find something to clutch onto for safety, Phoebe felt her adrenaline kick in when she found nothing to keep her feet on solid land. That was how the teen was forced to take the eighty foot dive off of the Island's cliffs, but escape wouldn't be that easy.

* * *

><p>Two guards walked into the infirmary with a young brunette and tossed her at eighteen year old Piper. The shy young woman held the girl steady and walked her over to a cot before looking back over at the guards.<p>

"What's wrong with her?"

"The idiot tried to escape the island and did a cliff dive off the southern shore. Make sure she doesn't get hypothermia," the short, mousy haired brunette shouted at her.

"Yeah, especially since we don't want her to die before she's taught a lesson," the taller, but significantly leaner guard responded.

Piper grew pale at the mention of the guards' punishment. She knew the guards were heartless; more robot than human, and usually more cruel.

Moving about the room, Piper grabbed towels and dry clothes for the younger girl. Of course she had known who it was the moment the two men had entered the room but Piper didn't want to give Phoebe any more attention than was allowed. She had made a name for herself as a problem prisoner and any attention from other inmates would get her severely beaten in a tactic to keep other prisoners from joining her break out attempts.

"You're going to be okay," Piper told the shivering girl as she began removing her sneakers and other clothes. "I'm going to dry you off with towels, but it's important that you dry off completely before we put new clothes on you otherwise the hypothermia won't get better," she explained and saw the other girl nodding her head through the shivers her body was wracked with.

Moving through the infirmary Piper went from drawer to drawer taking out towels, socks, sweats, blankets and anything else the girl would need. Putting it down on the bed right next to Phoebe, Piper thought for a moment and went into the bathroom to grab the blow dryer and brush.

"Don't worry. Everything's going to be fine."

"The guards," Phoebe said through chattering teeth, still nervous about what waited for her once she left the infirmary.

"Don't worry," Piper reiterated. "I'll take care of the guards."

* * *

><p>The guards were laughing as they entered their lunchlounge quarters. This was at least the twelfth attempt by Phoebe to escape in the last year and a half. At first she had just been considered troublesome but now the guards looked forward to punishing her in new and inventive ways. The other inmates had learned to keep quiet and didn't provide the guards with any kind of release or entertainment, and so Phoebe was the star of their fantasies.

About a dozen or so guards were eating while the first shift change was occurring and the new guards were reporting into the warden for their daily tasks. Prue sat at her desk outside of Warden Pratt's office. At twenty-one years old, Prue was a smart, confident, and somewhat hard young woman.

She had learned to play the role of Paradise Prisoner in order to make sure that she wasn't subject to the harsh treatment from the guards and research team that conducted experiments on the prisoners. In order to do that Prue acted as the personal secretary to Nathaniel Pratt, a particularly cruel man who loved knowing that the people he abhorred were forced to act as slaves to him.

Prue was scanning the written report on the latest incident with Phoebe, prisoner number 0304fh. Numbers were assigned by birth place among families, whether the witch is a pure bred or hybrid, and the witch's gender. Phoebe was supposedly the third child of four and of course was a female. That meant that if her siblings were alive that they were somewhere in Paradise Prison with her or the gene had skipped over them since her number identified her as a hybrid.

Prue made a mental note of Phoebe in what she considered her file of potential confidantes. The plan was in place and time was on her side. All she had to do was find a way to get to the younger girl and convince her to go stepford if Phoebe wanted to live long enough to bring Pratt and the rest of their organization down.

* * *

><p><em>All I can hope is that my plan will work and I can convince the others to follow my lead. Otherwise there will be no chance to save good magic. <em>

– _P_


	3. Chapter 3

_I've began to put my plan in motion, though I know it will take months if not years to finally culminate in the desired result. I'm fortunate for my position in the hierarchy of things because it has allowed me to move behind the scenes and help those who aren't nearly lucky. _

_I've lost too much in this war. My mother was killed while trying to protect me, my father left and I have no known family to call on for guidance or support. All I know is that I have to save as many witches as possible and I have one chance to do it. I just hope that the ones I've taken in and taught will return the favor. _

—_P_

* * *

><p>Prue strode down the hall to the infirmary so that the clicking of her heels echoed. She was wearing a black pencil skirt with a white camisole and Phoebe's file was in her hand. Nathaniel had insisted that Prue interview the witch on the events of the day; a new procedure which he had been informed of by his superiors, just in case they were ever investigated.<p>

Nathaniel trusted Prue, prisoner 0104fh, as much as would ever trust someone who possessed magic and she was taking full advantage of that fact. The experiments that were performed on all prisoners from the time they entered the prison until they left –never—were often just cruel and unusual punishment for bad behavior.

The scientists were trying to find the gene that caused some to be born with powers and even isolate how each individual inherited their specific power. Other experiments focused on pushing the use of powers to the max, how some performed under emotional distress, if the use of certain drugs could diminish the body's ability to access powers and more. Being a model prisoner, Prue hadn't been subjected to experiments since she was fourteen.

Prue had been rebellious once, just like Phoebe. She had fought the guards, used her powers to try to escape, and had been beaten for her efforts until one day her methods had cost her more than what she had been willing to sacrifice for her freedom. It had been that last altercation that had cause Prue's turn around as she realized that they would kill her before they let her escape. That was why she had to use this opportunity to sway Phoebe.

Walking into the infirmary, Prue noted prisoner number 0204fh. All she knew was that she was a shy, quiet girl who had been assigned to work as a nurse because of her gentle, unquestioning nature.

"Is she feeling good enough to answer some questions," Prue asked in a soft voice.

Piper looked up, startled to see the "terminator" as some of the prisoners called Prue. It was widely known that she had been taken under Pratt's wing and that she was used to keep other prisoners in line. Piper had promised the sleeping teen that she would keep the guards away but she didn't know how to keep Pratt's super weapon at bay.

"Uh, she just fell asleep," Piper said trying to buy more time. "I can call you when she wakes up though. It's just important that while she recovers from the hypothermia that we don't disrupt that process and sleep helps to keep her heartbeat at a steady rate."

Prue looked at the prisoner whose name she couldn't remember, recognizing that protective quality in her voice and added another name –well, technically number—to her memory.

"No, that's okay. I can wait," Prue said and took a seat directly across from her. "I'm Prue, and you are?"

"Piper; prisoner—"

"0204fh," Prue interrupted putting her folder down on the other girl's desk. "I'm aware of your number, and just about every other witch kept here. That's my job as Pratt's personal assistant. I keep my eyes on everyone and my ears to the ground."

"You help him keep us here," Piper said, her voice small but edged with an uncharacteristic anger you rarely saw in someone so timid. "You keep us trapped in this place with no friends, family, anything!"

"My job is to keep an eye on everything that happens in this facility," Prue said in a strong tone, reminding Piper of their difference in status. "Everyone who comes and goes, when they do it, how they do it."

"We call you the terminator," Piper told her.

"Funny, Pratt calls me the keeper of the gate," Prue said trying to get her point across. Phoebe started groaning and Prue turned her head to look at her. "It seems she's alright enough to be interviewed. Would you like to supervise your patient?"

Piper tilted her head as she gave the older woman a somewhat cynical and suspicious look. "I had better, if only to make sure her health isn't compromised."

* * *

><p>Prue entered Pratt's suite and sat at her desk, entering the data into the computer and updating the rest of Pratt's schedule for the rest of the month. She was also responsible for submitting reports to Pratt that summarized the latest findings from the research being conducted in layman's term and write notes on how it related to previous studies and its application to the treatment of the prisoner's.<p>

Little did he know that she was also using the data to compile a list of prisoners, separating it based on number of children in a family, pure bred versus hybrid status, and blood types/ genetic similarities like hereditary medical conditions in hopes of encouraging prisoners to join her side by reconnecting them with relatives. One of the ways that LAMBDA –or the League Against Magical BreeDs Association – had been successful at keeping thousands of witches prisoners was by removing familial ties and therefore power bases who could work together to escape.

Prue had been planning for nearly five years now and everything she had learned was committed to memory and she thanked her lucky stars that she had a photographic memory. She had plotted out the best day of the year to escape as well as the best routes to take them through Hobart Penitentiary. Spells had been created because Prue didn't have access to potion ingredients, but she was hopeful that she might be able to steal supplies from the guards over time.

There was only one thing necessary to put this whole thing in motion. Prue needed to put together at least one group of siblings. Her best bet was to look through the purebreds, she knew, because there was almost complete certainty that all children of a pure bred family would have been imprisoned at the time of their first blood test. That was how magic was being detected. Besides APGAR and Hearing Screenings at birth, most doctors also tested blood to determine blood type and test for genetic anomalies preemptively.

Who to choose? How to connect siblings? Prue's photographic memory started sifting through pure bred prisoners as she recalled their numbers, reading through their personal files, what their powers were, how big of a threat they were determined to be, matches in hereditary medical conditions and blood type. Prue closed her eyes for a moment as she create a new file in her mind that looked like a family tree as she organized the prisoners into different categories.

Rubbing her head, Prue tried to think of a faster way to link siblings together and she gathered her belongings as she left for the night. Mentally, she laughed as a single thought entered her mind. The terminator; if only. That would mean there was someone out there destined to lead them. Right now there were only three. They would need a miracle.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for the reviews! Some of you have already figured some of it out but keep reading and reviewing!

* * *

><p><em>The abduction of witches has been going on for as long as I can remember. Technology has allowed the government to keep track of us as if we were prized head of cattle; chronicling our ancestry<em> _and our powers. There are rumors of the torture that occurs at Hobart Penitentiary. Funny, that the people who have managed to trap so much magic behind bars haven't been able to realize that there's more out there just waiting for the opportunity for justice. _

_Almost as funny as the fact that some of us are slipping through the cracks, me for example. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but somehow I've been born without that pesky third rod that makes up the triple helix inherited by 99% of all witches. _

_I haven't always known that I was a witch. My mother was killed when I was nearly seven years old and still in the dark about our family heritage. She had managed to keep herself off the grid, and I wonder if my lack of a triple helix was inherited from her; some kind of mutation or recessive gene that I'm eternally grateful for. I don't remember much about my parents; whether they were both witches, or if it was only my mother, I don't know. I do know that she gave me the best possible life I could have had without her. _

_They came for her one night after they had seen her using magic. I remember her handing me to my father and telling him to go to Sister Agnes, a friend of the family who ran the Sunday school I attended. My father had done what she said and went back to get her because they didn't want me to be found with her in case the witch hunters caught her. I played, not really aware of what was going on, and soon my father was sitting with Sister Agnes; crying. _

_I didn't know what was going on, all I heard was, "I have to go back…to them," and "Don't worry about her. I'll watch over her". He left and I cried for what seemed like months. Sister Agnes kept her word and she watched over me, even finding an adoptive family for me to stay with. Sunday school changed as Sister Agnes convinced my guardians to allow her to teach me privately. What they didn't know was that I wasn't learning my scriptures but instead the basics of witch craft. _

_Looking back it's odd to think of my favorite nun teaching me about spells and potions but she always told me the same thing. "As wonderful as your adoptive parents are, you still come from magic. You must never forget the sacrifice your mother made for you and the others. You have to carry on her work, and this is how." Sister Agnes never told me what she meant by "the others" but I took her words to heart and have been sheltering illegals since I moved into my own home, a house that had been left to Sister Agnes by a member of her congregation. I just had to pray that I could complete my mission and stop more witches from being taken. For my mother and for Sister Agnes. _

—_P _

* * *

><p>Phoebe woke up and realized that she was back in the infirmary. Usually she was guarded by the dragon lady, an old decrepit bitty who looked like she had been around since before the fall of Camelot. She was surprised to see that they had allowed Piper to watch over her.<p>

The two girls didn't really know each other except in passing. Phoebe knew that Piper had been chosen to learn how to work as a nurse because of her even temper and nurturing touch; she put many of the children at ease especially the ones who were found later in life like she had been.

Phoebe was almost two and a half when she was taken. She had been old enough to know that her mommy wasn't there and that this place was scary. As she got older Phoebe had found that the place was even scarier than she had thought at first when they started studying her power of premonition and started using her visions for their own purposes.

"Phoebe," Piper said, "Pratt's personal assistant is here to interview you about what happened today when you jumped off the cliff."

Phoebe turned her head and finally caught a glance of Prue who was hidden from her original line of sight.

"Don't worry," Prue said trying to put the sixteen year old girl's mind at ease. "This shouldn't take long."

* * *

><p>Phoebe had become a model prisoner over the next six months as she allowed Prue to advise her on how she acted and what activities to participate in. The guards weren't happy about it, seeing as how their number one target wasn't given them anything to punish her for and even if there were they couldn't touch her.<p>

Pratt saw it as his own personal victory. After all, it was his assistant who had managed to get the girl to shape up and start following procedure. Still, Prue was a witch and while she may have been the main person keeping people in check, she did it because of him and that made every gain to his own credit and not hers.

Having the most difficult prisoner turn sides and follow his commands the first time he said them just showed everyone else that he was the one with the real power around here. That was why he had allowed Prue such luxuries with Phoebe and even that other prisoner who worked in the medical wing. Soon they would all be in his little army and when the time came he would snuff them all out but one. She would be his for the rest of their lives and then Pratt really would have complete control over the magical.


	5. Chapter 5

_None of us realized it, but this was when we finally found the path that would lead us to freedom. I just wish it didn't have to come at so heavy a price._

-_P_

* * *

><p>Phoebe was lying down in her cell, pretending to be asleep. It had been almost two years since she, Piper, and Prue had formed their little group. At eighteen years old, her powers had expanded greatly, though she would never let the guards or scientists know that. Thank God most of Phoebe's powers passive.<p>

Before their friendship, all Phoebe could do was wait for the random visions of the past and future to grab her. Now, she not only controlled how and when her visions came to her, but she could look as far back or forward as she liked for great lengths of time. Of course, her powers had increased and expanded due to her psychic abilities and she had developed empathy, as well as two active powers; the ability to levitate and to create electricity. She still avoided the guards and Prue told her that the experiments would be coming to an end since the scientists hadn't been able to discover anything new for several years now.

Thank god for Prue. Who knew what they would be doing to her right now if she hadn't decided to run away all those months ago and she hadn't met Prue.

Thank god for Piper, Phoebe thought. One of these days the three of them were going to tear down the walls of this place and would be free from this hell. All they needed to know was how, and they were working on it.

* * *

><p>"Ahh," Piper yelled as a guard backhanded her, hitting her square in the cheek so hard that she swore that it shattered.<p>

"Did you just use your power on us," one of the brutes asked stalking forward while she crawled away backwards, one hand on her swelling cheek.

"No! I swear I would never," the twenty year old cried.

"She's lying," the other one said.

"Lying about what," a voice rang out behind them and the guards turned swiftly to look at Prue who was wearing a face that said 'don't mess with me'. She was totally in her Terminator role.

"The witch used magic on us," the tall one answered. "She has the nerve to deny it too," his voice boomed and lunged forward grabbing Piper.

"Did the alarm go off," Prue asked in that tone that was meant to mock them and make them feel every bit the idiot that they were.

"No," the other guard said grudgingly.

"Well, you know the alarm that was created to sense magical disturbances would have gone off had she used magic," Prue told them. "Now get back to your post before I have to report this to Pratt."

They scurried away and Prue turned back to look at Piper, a smile appearing on her face. "It works."

* * *

><p><strong>"<strong>That incident in class was the last straw, Paige. I'm suspending you from school," her principal told her.

**"**Just for that?"

**"**_Just_ for that? Cutting classes, starting fights, smoking on campus, possession of alcohol," the principal listed all of her previous transgressions.

Minutes later, Paige followed her parent's outside of her school as they made their way to their car.

**"**Uh, you guys, can we just stay in tonight and not go to the restaurant or anything? Game night is so lame," she said copping an attitude.

"We need to talk, Paige. You can't keep acting this way and think that you're going to get away with it," her father said.

"Why do you even care how I act," Paige yelled. "I'm not even your kid," she told them. "You're not my real parents!"

Her father began to turn around so he could yell at her when his wife yelled, "Watch out!"

The next thing she knew, Paige was lying on the ground with road burn, watching her parents trapped inside their car which was on fire.


End file.
